


The Breaking of Yatagarasu

by darksnakedreaming



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst, Blood, Depression, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, I was feeling really dark when I wrote this, M/M, Probably lots of other things I can't think of right now., Psychological Torture, Rape Aftermath, Rape Recovery, Rape/Non-con Elements, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-10
Updated: 2016-11-12
Packaged: 2018-06-07 13:44:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 16
Words: 10,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6807415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darksnakedreaming/pseuds/darksnakedreaming
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>DISCONTINUED</p><p>So I was reading this last night and I kinda hate it, so it's gonna get a re-write. Will upload under the title "The Breaking of Yatagarasu- Reboot" so keep an eye out :)</p><p>Yata is abducted and abused in a cruel experiment in an attempt to break his spirit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Yata arched his back, straining against the leather straps that held his shoulders and hips down, pulling futilely at the cuffs around his wrists and ankles. He'd come to on a steel table like that, blindfolded and seemingly alone. He had a vague memory of leaving the bar late, but couldn't remember making it home. The vanguard blushed as his squirming revealed that he'd been stripped of all clothing, save for a pair of unfamiliar shorts that clung tightly to his waist and thighs.

 

The room was frigid, the steel of the table chilling him everywhere it made contact with his bare skin, despite the layer of sweat that coated his body from his struggles. He continued to pull at the restraints, calling out to anyone who might hear him. “Oy! What the hell's going on? Somebody better answer me!”

 

A speaker crackled, followed by a voice disguised with a frequency changer. “It is day one of your imprisonment. The date is October twenty-second. The time is oh six hundred. State your full name and alias.”

 

“Hah? What the hell is going on? Why am I in prison?”

 

“State your full name and alias.”

 

“Fuck you!” Yata gasped and bit back a cry of pain as a powerful electric shock tore through his body, circulating from electrodes placed on his chest, abdomen and back that he hadn't realized were there. His back arched off the table as the current pulsed through his body for several minutes before dissipating and he collapsed back on the table, panting for breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

 

“State your full name and alias.”

 

Yata gritted his teeth and ignored the statement. Another jolt of electricity rippled through him, stronger this time, and he bit down on his lip to keep from screaming in pain, but couldn't help the tears that spilled from his eyes.

 

“State your full name and alias.”

 

Yata stubbornly remained silent. An even stronger current ripped through him, and this time he couldn't hold his voice back. Tears continued to roll down his cheeks as agonized screams tore from his throat. After several long minutes the current finally eased and Yata slumped back onto the steel table, sweat pouring off his body.

 

“We will end there for the day. Perhaps tomorrow you will be more cooperative.”

 

Someone Yata couldn't see fitted a plastic mask over his nose and mouth and he tossed his head, trying to shake it off. He held his breath as long as he could but eventually had to suck in air as his head swam.

 

~

 

The same pattern of interrogation continued for four more days, his captor, or an assistant, coming in intermittently to pour water down Yata's throat or let him use the bathroom, which was the only time he was allowed to move. The blindfold was left on constantly, and if he made any move to take it off or try to escape, a needle would be stabbed into his neck and he'd wake up to find himself back on the table. Someone washed him daily, but wouldn't speak, so Yata had quickly given up on talking to whoever it was. A buzzer sounded every day right before what Yata had dubbed 'morning announcements' followed immediately by an electric current at the highest setting.

 

On the second day, an IV had been put in his arm, but Yata didn't know what they were dosing him with. He assumed it was some kind of muscle relaxer or sedative, he couldn't stand without help and fell into a deep sleep whenever he was left alone.

 

The fourth day began like the previous three, with a buzzer and a shock before the disembodied voice informed him that it was in fact the fourth day, November twenty-fifth and oh six hundred before ordering him to state his full name and alias. Yata smirked before answering. “Saint Mary, the virgin mother.”

 

A violent shock tore through him, stronger than he'd felt before. He screamed as he arched off the table, collapsing and gasping for air the moment the tremors stopped. “You think I'm afraid of you? You wanna kill me? Fucking do it already.”

 

“I have no interest in killing you. State your full name and alias.”

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Today is the sixth day.

 

The buzzer sounded, waking Yata moments before electricity jolted through his body before he had time to brace for the pain. He screamed, his body spasming as he arched off the table. The pain ended, but his body still trembled and twitched from the electricity passing through it.

 

The speaker crackled, and the voice spoke. “It is day six of your imprisonment. The date is November twenty-seventh. The time is oh six hundred. State your full name and alias.”

 

Yata hesitated briefly, then the electric shock tore through him again. “Aggh! Okay okay...”

 

The shocks faded and Yata gasped for breath.

 

“State your full name and alias.”

 

“Ya..Yata Misaki... also known as... Yatagarasu...”

 

“State your age and date of birth.”

 

“Wh-why?”

 

“State your age and date of birth.”

 

Deciding not to risk further shock treatments, Yata swallowed. “Age twenty... Ju-July twentieth...”

 

“State your clan.”

 

“H-HOMRA...”

 

A shock of electricity buzzed through him again. “Include your color. State your clan.”

 

“R-red clan...HOMRA...”

 

“Very good. That will be all for the time being. ”

 

“W-wait! Please... why am I in prison? What'd I do?”

 

The voice didn't respond, and Yata thought he'd be ignored again until the speaker crackled again. “This is not a prison. This is a lab. You are an experiment.”

 

“For what? Why are you doing this?”

 

“It is my job to break you.”

 

“Break me?”

 

The voice hesitated again, then spoke. “My employer holds a grudge against the former Kings. He finds it entertaining to hold a vanguard of the Red King, Yatagarusu, prisoner. He will enjoy watching you shatter.”

 

“Who's your employer? Oy!”

 

The voice did not speak again. Whoever it was that took care of him ran a leather strap over his forehead to keep his head down before inserting a metal tool into his mouth and forcing it open. Yata struggled as much as he could, gagging and choking as a long slender tube was guided down his throat. Some kind of warm liquid passed through it, pooling heavily in his stomach before the tube was withdrawn, leaving him coughing and dry-heaving.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Ms. Awashima clicked the video feed off, turning the lights back up. “ Four days ago, Kusanagi Izumo reported Yata Misaki as a missing person. This morning, this recording was delivered to Fushimi at his off-duty apartment. Note that the time stamps do not match the dates or times the speaker has given, each video clip was filmed over the last three days. Our top priority is now locating Yata Misaki and pursuing whoever it is holding him.”

 

The lower ranking members saluted and got to work immediately, carefully avoiding Fushimi's desk. The Blue King's vanguard hadn't looked up from his screen throughout the entire briefing, obviously chasing digital leads while the others were brought up to date.

 

Ms. Awashima tapped him on the shoulder. “Captain Munakata would like to see you in his office.”

 

“Busy. I'll see him later.”

 

The lieutenant cleared her throat. “ _Now_ , Fushimi.”

 

Fushimi groaned and stood. “ _Fine_.”

 

He knocked on the door to Munakata's office and was immediately granted access. The captain was sitting on the tatami platform, two tea cups set out and a pot of water already steaming. Fushimi sighed, stepping into the office and closing the door. “With all due respect, Captain, I don't have time for _tea_ , I'm pursuing some leads-”

 

“You aren't. Have a seat, Fushimi.”

 

Saruhiko opened his mouth to retort but bit it back at a glance from his King. “Is that an order...?”

 

“It is. Sit.”

 

The Blue knelt on the tatami, begrudgingly, waving away the cup of tea offered to him. “Captain-”

 

“If we didn't need your technical skills for this case, you would not be working it. Understand that.”

 

“...You think my friendship with Misaki will get in the way of finding him?”

 

“No. I think that will be what saves him. That being said, I think you should remember that _you_ are also a potential target. The video was delivered to your private home, not the dorms here at headquarters. I'm forbidding any field work, you will stay on base unless accompanied by an escort until this case is solved.”

 

“But if I'm not in the field-”

 

“This isn't a discussion!” Munakata sighed. “I'm not a King anymore, Fushimi. I can't protect you with my power. If you _are_ a target, every moment you spend off this base is a risk to your life, and if you're not here to help with this case, how would Yata be found?”

 

Saruhiko remained silent, staring down at his fists clenched on top of his thighs. When had he clenched his fists? He sighed, “I understand.”

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

Yata groaned, flexing his stiff muscles as best as he could given his restraints. They'd taken the blindfold off and hadn't replaced it, but the man who took care of him and didn't speak wore a suit akin to a HAZMAT suit that concealed his face. A two way mirror ran floor to ceiling on one of the walls, and a simple door was hung in the corner next to it. Rectangular lights illuminated the dingy peeling paint of the walls and ceiling, with a single bright spotlight hanging over the table. With the blindfold gone, he could see his breath as little puffs of fog in the cold room.

 

His entire body ached, dark bruises spotting his pale skin. For the past few days he'd been released from the table, only to be handcuffed and chained to a steel ring in the ceiling. They'd apparently taken his bat when they grabbed him off the street, and had beaten him with it. The ginger was especially concerned with a large dark purple patch that stained his ribcage. It hurt the most, and he suspected that a rib was broken, or at the very least cracked.

 

Today, they'd mostly left him alone except for 'morning announcements', the helper had run the feeding tube down his throat and then washed him from head to toe with anti-bacterial soap, according to the label, before leaving.

 

 

Yata's gaze traveled over the room, noting that the door had been left cracked. A glimmer of anticipation welled in his chest, but he bit it back, determining not to get his hopes to high. The cuff on his left wrist had been left too lose, and he could easily slip his hand out of it. He quickly reached over to undo the strap across his shoulders, then his right wrist, fumbling awkwardly with his non-dominant hand. Removing the strap over his hips and freeing his ankles was much easier with both hands free, and he was off the table a moment later, peeking cautiously out the door.

 

Seeing no one around, he darted down hallway after hallway until he found a door that he thought might lead outside. Hesitantly, he inched it open, peering through the crack and keeping a watchful eye out for anyone who might stop him. The door suddenly swung inward, whacking him in the face and making him stumble backward. The gingers eyes widened as HAZMAT stepped through the door and fisted a hand in his hair, dragging him back to his 'cell.'

 

Yata flailed as he was forced back onto the steel table and strapped down again. Someone else entered the room, wearing a business suit and a set of goggles and a surgical mask to obscure his face. “Surely you didn't think it would be that easy to escape? I almost hoped you wouldn't take the bait... almost.”

 

The man wearing the surgical mask flapped his hand at HAZMAT, who promptly left the room and promptly returned with a tray and a steel stool for the masked man, who Yata decided to call Goggles, to sit on. He then released Yata's left arm from the cuff, curling his gloved hands around it hard enough to bruise and pinning it to the table. Goggles pulled a pair of sterile gloves from a box on the tray and tugged them on, snapping the cuffs, before picking up a stainless steel scalpel. Yata swallowed hard, looking away and biting his lip as the blade sank into his skin, opening a long gash. Goggles tapped his arm above the cut. “Now, now. _You should pay better attention.”_

 

The vanguard froze at those words, his own from over a year ago, used against him and watched wide-eyed as Goggles held up a tiny black square with a pair of forceps. “See this? It's a microchip loaded with a GPS. That way, if you ever try to escape again, we can see _exactly_ where you go, from anywhere in the world. So, for instance, let's say you run back to your little mouse-hole back at HOMRA. Or even to your buddy in SCEPTER 4. It won't matter, because we _will_ find you, and kill anyone who gets in the way. And just to make things interesting, I'm putting a chip in each arm.”

 

Yata winced as the chip was pressed into his arm and the wound stitched shut. HAZMAT locked his arm back into the cuff before guiding the tray around the table so Goggles could repeat the process with his right arm. Finished, Goggles stood and stretched before making for the door. He stopped by Yata's feet. “Y'know... there is still the matter of your punishment for trying to run. Sure, we'll be able to track you down if you try again, but that's not gonna deter you much... I have a wonderful idea.”

 

Goggles dragged the stool and placed it at the end of the table, between Yata's feet. The crow screamed as the scalpel was dragged down each foot repeatedly, ball to heel. Hot blood seeped from the wounds and smeared between his toes as he writhed against his restraints. Finally, he couldn't take the pain any longer. “Stop... please... I won't run again... just stop.”

 

His tormentor smirked. “Oh I know you won't. You won't be able to. But don't think this is your punishment. I have something... _special_... in mind for that.”

 

Yata whimpered when Goggles finally stood and came around the side of the table to stand on his left. He twirled the bloody scalpel in his hand before pressing it to his HOMRA insignia. “If I'm not mistaken... this is your _pride_ , right?”

 

The vanguard screamed as the blade dug into his skin, cutting the mark away with flashes of white hot pain.

 


	5. Chapter 5

_It's day fourteen. The date is December fifth. It's been four days since anyone came. It's been four days since I've heard someone else's voice. It's day fourteen. The date is December fifth. It's been four days since anyone came. It's been four days since I've heard someone else's voice. It's day fourteen. The date is December fifth. It's been four days since anyone came. It's been four days since I've heard someone else's voice._

 

After mutilating Yata's insignia, Goggles had left the room, laughing like a madman, which he probably was. HAZMAT had wedged a cloth gag into his mouth and tied it behind his head before leaving as well. Yata hadn't seen either of them, or anyone for that matter, since. His stomach pinched from lack of food, his mouth felt dry and sticky, any moisture it produced was sucked up by the gag. The blood from his wounds had congealed into a gummy paste, he felt weak and sick.

 

The buzzer sounded and a rough current of electricity tore through his aching body. Yata almost cried with relief when the speaker crackled to life. “Yata Misaki, also known as Yatagarasu, of the Red clan HOMRA. It is day 19 of your imprisonment. The date is December ninth. The time is oh six hundred.”

 

Now he wanted to cry for an altogether different reason. Or rather a mix of reasons. The voice was gone, with no guarantee it would return. He'd miscounted the days, he was losing track of time. _How did I miscount that badly?_

 

For the next week, only the electric shocks were continued. Gradually, Yata stopped resisting when HAZMAT came to wash him, feed him or let him up to use the bathroom. He accepted this new, relatively peaceful routine, wondering from time to time if Goggles had acted on his own, and whether or not his captor was searching for someone new to take his place.

 

~

 

The buzzer startled Yata from his sleep moments before the current shocked him, only this time it didn't fade away, it settled into a low thrum that didn't really hurt, only tingled. The ginger wondered if he was getting numb to the sensation, or if his body had just accepted it as the norm. “Yata Misaki, also known as Yatagarasu, of the Red clan HOMRA. It is day twenty-nine of your imprisonment. The date is December twentieth. The time is oh six hundred.”

 

Yata laughed to himself. Why were they even bothering to tell him the date and time anymore? It was blatantly obvious he wouldn't be leaving this room alive, so what was the point? What was the point of anything? “Oy, I thought you wanted to break me? What happened? Get bored?

 

Several hours passed before HAZMAT entered the room, carrying a small metal tray with a single syringe on it. He said nothing as always, injecting the contents of the syringe into Yata's shoulder. Yata trembled as the blindfold was tied over his eyes. The door banged open and closed again, and a few minutes later the ginger cried out at a sharp pain in his right side. Someone had cut a trail down his side, and was now pressing a slim rectangular box into the wound. Tears rolled down his cheeks as they stitched it closed, and then he was alone again.

 

~

 

“Yata Misaki, also known as Yatagarasu, of the Red clan HOMRA. It is day thirty of your imprisonment. The date is December twenty-first. The time is 0h six hundred.”

 

Yata frowned. He hadn't heard the buzzer, or felt the shock this time. He held his breath as the strap over his hips was removed and the cuffs were taken from his ankles. Something strange was happening. HAZMAT _always_ released his arms first to cuff them behind him. He gasped when the shorts he wore were ripped down and off. _No_. They couldn't be planning to...

 

The vanguard yelped as his knees were bent, his heels pressing into the backs of his thighs. Something hard, but fleshy, bumped against his inner thigh moments before...

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

Seri hesitantly entered the bar, surprised to find Izumo slumped on a bar stool instead of behind it. He didn't seem to register her entrance, so she walked up to him, rapping the knuckles of her first two fingers against the wood. “Aren't you on the wrong side here?”

 

HOMRA's second in command looked up at her, eyes blood-shot and rimmed with red, sunglasses abandoned on the seat beside him. Wordlessly, he reached over the bar, retrieving a disc in a paper envelope. 'Yatagarasu: Broken Crow' was written in sharpie on both the disk and the envelope. Kusanagi cleared his throat. “That was delivered at five this morning. Seri... don't let Fushimi see it.”

 


	7. Chapter 7

Yata licked his lips. He'd been left unbound, and he raised a shaking arm to push the blindfold away. He sat up, a lightning bolt of pain jarring his hips. His entire body protested the movement. For the past three days, he'd been electrocuted, whipped, beaten and... repeatedly. He forced his mind away from that train of thought, glancing around the room. A length of chain still hung from the ring in the ceiling, and he eased himself off the table, wincing as his wounded feet made contact with the floor. He staggered towards the chain, flinching when the buzzer sounded. “December Twenty-fourth.”

 

He almost laughed as he looped the chain around his neck. _Merry Christmas, Misaki... you finally get to die today..._

 

~

 

Yata woke, back on the steel table, the restraints holding him in place. Was that a dream? The speaker crackled on. “Yata Misaki, also known as Yatagarasu, of the Red clan HOMRA. This is the thirty-fourth day of your imprisonment. It is December twenty-fifth. As a special present for you, I'll give you some information.”

 

The voice paused a moment before it continued. “Four days ago, a device was implanted in your right side. This device will trigger a bomb the moment you are lifted from the table. The bomb will be disarmed the moment you die so that your body can be retrieved. Fushimi Saruhiko, of SCEPTER 4, has discovered our location. Our research has been concluded.”

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

Fushimi knew about the disk that had been sent to Kusanagi. He would even hazard a guess as to what was on it, because he'd received one with the same title that morning. It had been leaning against the door of his room at the SCEPTER 4 dorm, and he'd watched it without anyone else's knowledge or interference. Anger had boiled inside of him, and he'd taken off, following the clues that had been incripted into the files to an abandoned warehouse at the shipping yard.

 

The moment he'd walked in, a projection had played on a screen hung from a pulley. A man wearing goggles and a surgical mask waved at him from the recording. “Welcome, Fushimi Saruhiko, of the Blue clan SCEPTER 4. I've concluded my little project, so I've already scheduled this building for demolition! But of course I'll let you have your precious Misaki back! If you can find him in time that is!”

 

The screen projected a timer counting down from sixty minutes, and Saruhiko took off down a hallway, calling Misaki's name. At random, he picked a door and burst through it, finding an empty room with a two way mirror in place of a wall. Misaki was on the other side of it.

 

His heart pounded in his throat. Misaki wasn't moving, though that could be from the restraints, he reassured himself. Although he couldn't tell if his former partner was breathing from here. Looking around, not wanting to waste time looking for a door, he spotted a metal chair in a corner. He grabbed it and crashed the chair into the glass, shattering it.

 

~

 

Yata blearily opened his eyes at the sound of shattering glass, looking around vainly before he remembered he was blindfolded. He whimpered as footsteps crunched through the glass, flinching when a hand brushed his cheek. “Misaki?”

 

The blindfold was pulled off and Yata blinked in the bright light. He looked around as his vision cleared, his gaze settling on... “S-saru?”

 

Tears rolled down the Red's cheeks as Fushimi worked on freeing him from the restraints. “Let's get you out of here.”

 

“N-no... wait...”

 

“Wait for what?” Saruhiko slipped his jacket off, draping it over Yata before sliding his arms beneath the gingers knees and shoulders. Yata winced at the pain of having someone touch him, managing to gasp out a single word. “B-bomb-”

 

The Blue froze, carefully lowering Yata back down. “Where?”

 

“My-my side... Saru... just kill me... please...if I'm dead the bomb won't go off...I don't wanna live anymore anyway...”

 

“Shut up! I'm not gonna let you die.”

 

“Please...” Yata winced as something sharp pricked his side. “What are you doing?”

 

“Cutting the stitches so I can get rid of the bomb.”

 

“W-wait...” Yata trailed off, suddenly to tired to protest anymore. It didn't matter if he lived. It didn't matter if he died. He just wanted to sleep. Distantly, he remembered something. “Oy... S-saru...”

 

“What?”

 

“Merry... Christmas....”

 

“What the hell are you talking about? Christmas is weeks away, it's barely December.”

 

Yata frowned. “That... can't be right...” He slipped into darkness.

 


	9. Chapter 9

Fushimi gingerly tugged the sloppy stitches out of Misaki's skin, carefully extracting a thin rectangular box. He found a groove on one end and used the tip of his knife to pry the box open, quickly scanning the device and slicing the wire that would trigger it. “It's gone. Misaki?”

His former partner had fallen silent and the Blue looked up at his face, seeing that his eyes were closed. “Misaki, wake up!”

He tapped his blood stained fingers against Yata's cheek, frowning at the dark bruise that circled the ginger's neck. The Red groaned, his eye slitting open. “S-saru...?”

“You have to stay awake.”

“Nn...”

~

Fushimi scowled, tapping his foot impatiently, glancing between his watch and the illuminated 'in progress' sign above the door. Beyond that door, Yata was being examined, possibly even going into surgery to repair the damage to his right side. Ms. Awashima sat on a bench against the wall, patiently waiting with him. 

Despite the government mostly shutting down SCEPTER 4, due to a lack of need and funding, they still had a fully functioning clinic, just in case any SCEPTER 4 members ran into trouble while they worked on cleaning up the mess the destruction of the Dresden Slates had caused. Two doctors and their assistants, and a full time nursing staff kept the clinic running night and day.

Finally, the light went dim and a doctor emerged. He looked at a clipboard as he spoke, “He lost a lot of blood, so we've given him a transfusion. We also have him on vitamin and fluid drips, he's dehydrated and malnourished. The damage to his right side is serious, but not life-threatening. He has several infected lacerations, which we had to re-open and clean, but they've been stitched and bandaged. Multiple contusions, most of which are relatively minor, but he does have some bruising around his trachea which we will continue to monitor. He has two broken ribs, and his muscles have atrophied from being forced to remain in the same position for so long, but a few weeks of physical therapy will have him back to normal. He also has a slight tremor, which could be a result of permanent nerve damage, or it could fade away with time. We ran a rape kit, and will hand the results over to you as soon as they come back. All together, he should fully recover, physically, in about six weeks.”

Ms. Awashima stood, “And psychologically?”

“I can't say, ma'am. I recommend he starts seeing a trauma therapist as soon as possible.”

Fushimi stared at the doctor, “Can I see him now?”

“He'll be in recovery for about two hours, then we'll have him set up in a room.”

“We understand, thank you.” Ms. Awashima shook the doctors hand and he nodded to Fushimi before retreating through the door. The Blue looked up as Ms. Awashima cleared her throat. “What?”

“You'll need to give your report to the captain. I recommend you do it now, while Yata is still in recovery.”

~

Saruhiko scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck. The captain, and Ms. Awashima, had thoroughly berated him for taking off on his own. As a result, he was assigned to strictly desk work for a week, which would keep him on base, a blessing in disguise since it meant he'd be able to see Misaki more often.


	10. Chapter 10

Yata woke in a strange place, for what was the second time in his life. He was dressed in a loose white t-shirt, and a pair of white shorts that hung past his knees. His wounds were dressed with clean white bandages, and he felt stronger than he had in a long time. Overall, there was a vast improvement in his new surroundings over his last, with its peeling paint and flickering light, but all the more unsettling because of it's neat white walls and bright light. The redhead tested his restraints, surprised to find them gone, then yanked the IV tube out of his arm before hesitantly climbing off the sheeted cot he found himself on. Wincing as his bandaged feet made contact with the tiled floor, he made his way to a lightly stained wooden door, genuinely surprised to find it unlocked. He hesitated for a moment, wondering if this was another trap before deciding it was worth the risk, jerking the door open and tearing down the hallway as fast as his stinging feet would carry him.

 

A man wearing a pale blue dress shirt and navy slacks under a white coat emerged from another room just as Yata passed it. The man shouted, reaching out and grabbing Yata's arm. The ginger whirled on him, determined to fight back this time, kneeing the stranger awkwardly in the hip and jerking his arm free. Someone grabbed him from behind, quickly pinning him to the wall. Still, Yata struggled, at least until a needle sank into the side of his neck, and he was dragged back into unconsciousness.

 

~

 

He awoke for the second time in the same room, looking around in a panic until his gaze came to rest on Fushimi, sitting in a chair in the far corner of the room, book in hand. “S-saruhiko? How did... What happened?”

 

“You don't remember? You were kidnapped.”

 

“I- I remember _that_... how'd I get _here_?”

 

The Blue frowned, snapping his book shut. “I found you this morning... This is the clinic at SCEPTER 4 headquarters.”

 

“Oh...”

 

“The man you assaulted was one of the doctor's assistants.”

 

“Sorry...” Misaki stretched, wincing when the movement sent a sharp pain through his ribs. Saruhiko stood and came over to sit on the edge of the bed. “I called Mr. Kusanagi. He'll be heading over as soon as he finishes shutting down the bar.”

 

“No!”

 

“No?”

 

Misaki looked away from Saruhiko. “I don't want him... any of them... to see me like... this...”

 

They sat in silence until Yata fisted his hands in the blankets, his voice cracking as he spoke. “I... I thought I was going to be there for the rest of my life. How come... how come it took a month for you to find me?”

 

“It was two weeks.”

 

“That... can't be right... it's Christmas, isn't it?”

 

“Misaki... it's December ninth.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket, hitting the power button to display the date. “See? It was a trick.”

 

~

 

Yata frowned, passing the half-eaten container of jello to Saruhiko to dispose of. His stomach twisted unpleasantly, and he didn't want to risk throwing up again, it hurt his ribs too much. He'd scarfed down the dinner they'd brought him a few hours ago, and his stomach had promptly rejected it.

 

The Blue sighed, dropping the plastic cup and spoon into the trashcan before returning to his chair and picking his book up again. The pair sat in silence for a few minutes before Misaki cleared his throat. “H-how bad... is it?”

 

“How bad is what?”

 

“...Me...”

 

Saruhiko sighed, snapping his book shut once again, deciding to rush through his explanation without giving the Red any time to ask questions until he was done. “You lost a lot of blood, they had to give you a transfusion as soon as they got you to the exam room... You're on a vitamin and fluid drip for dehydration and malnutrition. You're wounds aren't serious, but they're infected, so they've got you on antibiotics for that. Your trachea is bruised, but not badly. You'll need physical therapy to build up strength again, and you've got two broken ribs. The tremors in your hands could fade with time, but they might not.”

 

Misaki nodded, his brow furrowed as he thought. “Did they get the chips out?”

 

“Chips?”

 

“They put GPS chips in my wrists so they could track me if I got away.”

 

“The doctor xrayed both wrists and didn't find anything. It was a trick, just like with the dates.”

 

The ginger's hand immediately shot to his wrist, fumbling with the bandage. “Of course they didn't find it in an x-ray, it's a tiny micro-”

 

Saruhiko grabbed his hand. “What are you doing?”

 

“Getting them out myself!” Yata ripped away from Fushimi's grasp, unraveling the bandage and raising his wrist to bite at the stitches. The Blue grabbed his arms, pinning them to his sides. “Stop it! I'll get them to re-check, just sit tight for a minute.”

 

~

 

Yata watched the door click shut behind Fushimi, waiting for about twenty minutes to make sure he wouldn't return. The doctor had re-xrayed his wrists, done an MRI and even gone so far as to remove the stitches and check manually and had still found nothing. So Yata waited, until he was finally alone, tugging out the fork he'd hidden in his pillow at dinner. He unwound the fresh bandages around his wrists, then slipped a prong under the first stitch, hissing in pain as he ripped them out, one by one. Blood was running freely down his arm now, and he sank his fingers into the wound, tears welling in his eyes as he searched for the chip. He clicked his tongue in irritation when he couldn't find anything, switching to his other wrist, only to come up empty handed once more. He growled in frustration. “They _have_ to be there... I _know_ they are!”

 

Blood dripped onto his lap, soaking through the navy blue blanket to stain his white hospital clothes as he dug through his wrists, continuing to search for something that just wasn't there. The door clicked open and a nurse in blue scrubs walked in, running over to Yata when she saw the blood smeared all over him. She pressed a button somewhere on the wall behind the cot before slipping on a pair of sterile gloves. Two male orderlies ran into the room, holding him down as the nurse unlocked a cabinet, removing a syringe wrapped in plastic. Yata screamed and kicked, doing everything in his power to shake his subduers loose, but they were stronger than him. He jerked as the needle sank into the side of his neck, fighting as long as he could, his struggles growing weaker as his vision blurred and faded altogether.

 


	11. Chapter 11

Fushimi scowled at the page of test results the clinic had faxed to him and dropped it on top of his ever growing stack of paperwork. The culprit had used direct quotes of things Misaki had said in the past, and seemed to know quite a bit about the Red, so he'd run the results against everyone Yata'd ever had a confrontation with, as well as every member, former and current, of HOMRA. He cared for Misaki, and had no resentment toward Anna or Kusanagi, but in his humble opinion, the rest of HOMRA could go suck an egg. He'd gotten no matches to the DNA found on Yata, and every suspect hauled in by SCEPTR 4 had an alibi for both the date Misaki was kidnapped and for most of the dates on the videos. So far, their search for the culprit was fruitless.

 

All in all, this was turning out to be quite the shitty day. Awashima had met him at his desk right after he'd left Misaki, demanding that he meet with Munakata. The Captain had informed him that Misaki had ripped out is stitches and had to be sedated. The clinic was demanding that the Red be restrained because of his 'destructive tendencies', and Munakata agreed. Saruhiko had argued, pointlessly, as it turned out, for nearly an hour before finally giving up, returning to his desk to mindlessly fill out paperwork. Eventually, he came to the realization that Misaki was a danger to himself. He rolled his neck, stretching the tightened muscles and glanced at his watch to see that it was nearing nine pm. Deciding that he'd done enough work for one day, he straightened his desk before heading down to the clinic to see Misaki.

 

~

 

Yata groaned as he came to, his head foggy and heavy with sleep. He raised a hand to wipe his eyes, breath catching in his throat when it only came a few inches off the bed. Looking down, he saw that padded cuffs had been fastened around each freshly bandaged wrist, securing him to the cot. A small whimper escaped his throat as he yanked his arms, turning into a full-fledged groan of distress when that accomplished nothing. “No no no... not again... Oy! Somebody, please, lemme out! Hey!”

 

The door, which had been left cracked, banged against the wall when it was shoved open. Fushimi stepped through, a thoroughly irritated scowl on his face. “There are other patients here you know, keep it down. Haven't you caused enough trouble for one day?”

 

“Saru! Thank god, get me outta here, hur-”

 

“No.”

 

Misaki blinked, a knot of panic settling in his chest. “Wh-whaddya mean, 'no'?”

 

Saruhiko sat down on the corner of the bed, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I mean, no.”

 

“Wh-why? Please, Saru, I think they're working with Goggles and-”

 

“Did you decide that before or after you ripped your stitches out?”

 

“That's... I had to! The chips are-”

 

“There aren't any chips, Misaki.”

 

“You... you're working with them too, aren't you? Of course it took you a month to find me, you-”

 

“I'm not working with anyone! I'm trying to _help_ you!”

 

“Yeah, right... This is just another trap, isn't it? Make me think I'm safe and then-”

 

Fushimi stood, walking over to the door. “This isn't getting us anywhere. It's been a long day, I'm going home.”

 

“Wait, Saru, I didn't mean that-”

 

The door slammed shut. Fushimi was gone.

 

 


	12. Chapter 12

Fushimi sat in his chair in Yata's room, book in his hands and open, but mostly ignored. Instead, he watched as the Red slept. The ginger spent every waking moment demanding to be released and fighting, either struggling against the cuffs or trying to kick and bite any of the staff who got close enough, at least until they started sedating him. Every once in a while, Misaki's hands would jerk against their restraints and he would mumble in his sleep, his brow furrowing. Saruhiko would almost be grateful for the silence, if only it meant Misaki was sleeping a natural, peaceful sleep instead of being drugged. Yata wouldn't speak to anyone and refused to eat or drink anything, or even sleep. Two days ago, a psychiatrist had come to do an evaluation, recommending that Yata be moved to a specialized mental facility, but the Captain had refused, wanting to keep the Red in a more secure place. This morning, the fifth day after he'd rescued Misaki, they'd started force feeding him, and he was on a constant fluid drip.

 

Yata's eyelids fluttered open and he looked dazedly around the room, weakly tugging at his restraints. His gaze fell on Fushimi, and he sighed and turned his head away. The Blue closed his book with a snap and stood, tucking the book under his arm and shoving his hands in his pockets. “You're only hurting yourself you know.”

 

The Red didn't respond, but Saruhiko heard a slight whimper. Yata was crying. Knowing that Misaki hated for anyone to see him cry, the Blue didn't react, he simply went through the door and closed it behind him.

 

~

 

Yata woke for the second time without Fushimi by his side, meaning the Blue hadn't been by for two days. The Red bit his lip as tears rolled down his cheeks, trying to stifle the sound of his crying. He was tired, so tired. All he wanted was to get out of this room. He jerked his arms, uselessly trying to free himself, and it wasn't long before he was coated in a fine layer of sweat, the blankets kicked to the bottom of the bed where they lay in a tangled heap. Misaki groaned and flopped back on the bed, speaking the first words he had in a week, even though no one was around to hear them. “I just wanna see the sky again...”

 

His eyes fell shut, and he dozed, giving up the struggle of refusing to sleep. He had the sudden feeling that he was falling and sat up with a start, looking around. He was... outside? A glance around told him that he was on the grounds of the SCEPTER 4 base, but he wouldn't be for long. He dragged himself to his feet, wincing at the stinging pain from his still healing wounds, and ran.

 

 


	13. Chapter 13

Fushimi flipped through the stack of documents that had been waiting outside his dorm that morning, wearily going over finance reports. A flash of white caught his eye and he looked up. “Misaki...?”

 

Sure enough, that was Yata, in his hospital clothes and bandaged feet, hobbling towards the side gate. Fushimi sighed, setting his stack of papers on a nearby bench and took off after the Red. He'd nearly reached the gate when Fushimi grabbed his arm. The ginger yelped in fear and pain, flailing. “No! I won't run, don't hurt me-”

 

“Idiot, why would I?”

 

Yata's eyes widened when he realized who had grabbed him and struck out with his free arm. Fushimi grabbed it, able to lock the fingers of one hand around both of Yata's thin wrists. The Red kicked him in the knee and they both crumbled to the ground in a heap. Before Misaki could get up and take off again, Fushimi tackled him, easily pinning the Red's frail body beneath his own. Yata thrashed, kneeing Saruhiko in the gut and kicking in an attempt to dislodge the Blue. “Dammit monkey! Get offa me! You can't take me back, I won't-”

 

Fushimi cut him off. “I'll make a deal with you then. If you let me take you back to the clinic, and if you stop resisting and cooperate, then I promise we'll let you go sooner rather than later.”

 

“Not happening!”

 

“Will you use your brain for one damn minute? Everyone is worried about you! You're sick and hurt and we-” Fushimi cut himself off before the word fully left his lips. But as idiotic as he acted sometimes, the Red wasn't stupid. “Weak? Is that what you were gonna say, monkey? You think I'm _weak_?”

 

Fushimi sighed. “Your need time to heal, Misaki. Let me take you back to the clinic, and you can leave as soon as you've healed.”

 

Yata bit his lip and looked away, seeming to consider his options before speaking. “No more restraints.”

 

“That's out of my hands. You're being uncooperative, attacking anyone who gets near you, and if that wasn't bad enough, you keep trying to hurt yourself!”

 

“I told you, there are chips-”

 

“There're no damn chips Misaki! When are you going to let that sink in?”

 

“I SAW him! I didn't just hallucinate that whole thing, Saru!”

 

“It was sleight of hand! He tricked you! We triple checked both wrists, there's nothing there!”

 

“You're wrong, I know he put them there!”

 

Fushimi clicked his tongue against his teeth. “Misaki...”

 

“Why can't you just believe me?”

 

The Blue shook his head. “Just let me take you back to the clinic... please. I'll do what I can about the restraints, but you have to _promise_ to stop hurting yourself and attacking people. Trust me, Misaki. Please.”

 

Yata flinched and stopped struggling, biting into his bottom lip. “You swear I can go in a couple days if I listen to you?”

 

“I promise you can go when you're _healed_.”

 

“Fine... I'll go back... but if I'm not outta there soon...”

 

Fushimi released his hold on the Red and stood, pulling Yata to his feet. The ginger wobbled on his unsteady legs and trembled, presumably from the exertion of running and trying to fight off Fushimi. The Blue kept a hand on Yata's shoulder to steady him. “Want me to call for a chair?”

 

“Hell no.”

 

The pair made their way back across the SCEPTR 4 base, heading for the clinic, making a quick stop so the Blue could grab his paperwork. Fushimi kept a hand under Yata's arm to steady him in case he stumbled, scowling as he went over the situation in his head, thoroughly irritated. “The clinic is part of the main building, and security is _supposed_ to be tight. How did you even get out here?”

 

“I don't know.”

 

“You said you'd cooperate.”

 

“I really don't know! One minute I was on the cot, and the next thing I knew I was outside!”

 

“Misaki...”

 

“You never believe anything I say.”

 

“Tell me something I can believe.”

 

Yata jerked his arm away and stumbled from the unexpected momentum, leaning into a tree for support. “That's not fair Saruhiko... I've never lied to you, not once!”

 

“Just drop it. I don't want to waste any more time arguing with you.”

 

“You-” The Red's face paled suddenly and he groaned, pressing a hand against his side. His eyes widened when it came away stained with blood. “S-saru...”

 

The Blue was already lifting up his blood-stained shirt, kneeling beside him to inspect the damage. “Shit. Your stitches must've torn, the bandage is soaked... it's soaking into your shorts too... shit.”

 

Yata slumped against the tree, looking back the way they'd come. A trail of bloody footprints started about fifteen feet away. How had he not felt that? “I don't... feel so good...” His head was spinning, his vision going blurry as he swayed. Saruhiko caught him before he fell, heaving him over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. The Blue took off for the clinic at a sprint and Yata closed his eyes, gripping tightly to the back of Saru's jacket. He lost consciousness just as they reached the main entrance.

 

The Red came to briefly as a doctor inspected the re-opened wound in his side, carefully removing the torn threads. His eyes wandered, searching for Saruhiko, who stood a few feet away talking to another Blue. The doctors assistant wrapped the all-too familiar cuffs around his wrists, leaving them loose so they wouldn't agitate his wounds, but not so loose that he could shake them off. The ginger pulled against them, panic welling in his chest as he squirmed. “No...please... Saru...”

 

He drifted off, the last thing his mind registered was the sound of Fushimi's irritated voice complaining. “Is that really necessary right now? He's not even conscious-”

 

Yata let the comforting pool of darkness pull him under.

 


	14. Chapter 14

Yata drifted in and out of consciousness, not having the energy or motivation to open his eyes or speak, but still managing to latch on to the conversation happening around him. An angry baritone rang in the teen's ears. “He's been trying to kick and bite anyone who comes near him, and let's not forget that he assaulted my assistant! He's violent and dangerous, if not towards others, then towards himself. We can't trust _a promise_ to make him cooperate.”

 

Saruhiko's voice was easy to recognize, “He woke up in a strange place, and he's been through severe trauma so obviously he's scared and defensive, you-”

 

The baritone spoke again, “And what about today's escape? You still think he doesn't need to be restrained?”

 

Saruhiko spoke lowly, an edge to his voice that showed he was getting irritated with the baritone. “He was held in a room for two weeks, only to find himself held captive again! This is why I was against restraining him in the first place, it's put him over the edge exactly like I said it would!”

 

Then there was a serious sounding woman who he recognized as Ms. Awashima, “That's enough. According to the medical reports, Yata has suffered a large amount of physical and psychological trauma that would lead to this kind of behavior. Going by _your_ reports and the reports of your staff, there is no way he could have run off on his own, and as Fushimi stated in his report to me earlier, Yata does not remember how he got out of the clinic. It's not so hard to believe that he would be disoriented by waking up in a strange place when you consider the trauma he's been subjected to. However, I agree with the assessment that Yata is a danger, even if only to himself. So we will negotiate a compromise. The restraints will remain in place, until Yata proves his willingness to cooperate with treatment. Are we in agreement?”

 

Yata heard Fushimi's grunt of acknowledgment as the baritone huffed, followed by the sound of a door closing with an agitated snap before Saruhiko spoke again. “What about the release request?”

 

“I'll arrange for Izu- Kusanagi to take him back to HOMRA as soon as he's given a clean bill of health. That's the best I can do.”

 

“Understood, ma'am.”

 

“Also... You realize if he cooperates and we do take the restraints off, only for him to harm himself or someone else, or if he starts refusing treatment again, there won't be much I can do. The psychiatrist will insist on moving him, and if that is the case, it's likely the Captain will agree.”

 

“I understand. Thank you.”

 

“Good.”

 

The door clicked shut again, though more softly this time. Yata felt himself drifting back into unconsciousness.

 

 


	15. Chapter 15

Yata woke in a panic, straining at the cuffs around his wrists. “No no no lemme go lemme go-”

 

Fushimi was by his side in an instant. “Easy, it's okay, calm down. You're safe...”

 

“Saru...? Why am... you promised they'd take these off...”

 

“I know, I know. And they will, you just have to work with them for a couple of days so they'll trust you-”

 

Yata shook his head. “No, I don't trust them, please, Saru, I can't do this, I gotta get out of here...”

 

Fushimi rubbed the Red's arm, “Okay, just, sit still for a second and I'll see what I can do.”

 

Yata watched as the Blue stepped outside the door, his back to his former partner. He left the door open so the ginger could still see him, but stayed far enough away that Yata couldn't hear as he flipped his phone open and dialed.

 

The Red squeezed his eyes shut, trying to focus on calming his breathing. All he wanted was to go home, back to HOMRA.

 

~

 

“I've already given my orders regarding this, Fushimi.”

 

“Yes ma'am, but it's making him _worse_ , I fully believe tha-” Fushimi turned around to check on Yata, his breath catching in his throat at the sight of the empty bed. Awashima, on the other side of the line, cleared her throat impatiently. “Fushimi? What's going on?”

 

“He's... gone...”

 

“What do you mean he's gone?”

 

“I-I turned my back for just a second and...”

 

“Did you take the restraints off?”

 

“No... And I'm standing in front of the door, there's no way he could've gotten past me...”

 

~

 

Yata took a final deep breath and let it out slowly as he opened his eyes. He found himself standing in the middle of HOMRA's bar, surrounded by the remaining members, all of whom were staring at him in disbelief. Kusanagi set a glass down on the bar, “Yata? How did you get here? You're supposed to be-”

 

Panic squeezed Yata's lungs, making it hard for him to breath. There were too many people watching him. Kusanagi would make him go back. Mikoto... Mikoto might've understood. The world around him blurred and spun, making the ginger feel dizzy and sick. He closed his eyes, blocking the whirling colors out as he sank to his knees, landing in something cold and wet.

 

Confused, he opened his eyes, finding himself kneeling in puddle as rain fell down from above him. Looking around, his chest tightened more as he recognized where he was. This was the school island, the exact spot where he'd seen Mikoto for the last time.

 

His throat closed as tears welled in his eyes, falling forward onto his hands, digging into the soft dirt. He was so tired of losing people... first Saruhiko had walked out of his life and become his enemy, then Tatara had been killed and then Mikoto died trying to avenge him. Yata sniffled, wiping his cheeks with muddy fingertips.

 

A hushed murmur startled him into looking up. A crowd of students milled about, watching him and whispering to each other. A familiar looking girl approached him cautiously, but his scattered mind couldn't place her. She stopped a few feet away from him. “Hey... you're friends with Kuroh and Neko, right? A-are you here looking for them?”

 

Yata scrambled back. “I'm-I'm not looking for anybody... just leave me alone, please!”

 

The world spun again, the colors bleeding together. This time, once the spinning stopped, Yata found himself on an all to familiar rooftop. Specifically, the rooftop where Tatara had died in his arms. He still remembered the feeling of his friend's body growing stiff and heavy, the warmth fading away.

 

A whine escaped his throat. “What is happening to me...?”

 

His legs trembled and gave out beneath him, overtaken by a sudden weariness. His body shook, waves of heat passing through him with every beat of his heart. Yata grimaced as the heat made his wounds throb. Saruhiko... Saruhiko would help him...

 

Yata groaned as the scenery rotated around him, colors blending in with the rain and turning gray.

 

~

 

Fushimi ran through the streets, his boots splashing in the puddles, dialing Kusanagi's number as he dodged pedestrians. Before he could hit the call button, his phone rang, the caller ID showing the Red lieutenants number. “Fushimi here.”

 

“Yata was here.”

 

“I thought he might've gone there... hang onto him, I'm on my way now.”

 

“Yeah... He's already gone. Just vanished from the middle of the bar, and nobody saw him come in.”

 

Fushimi cursed under his breath. “Any idea's where he might have gone?”

 

“No... He spends all his time here or at his apartment. I've got Kamamoto posted there in case he shows up though.”

 

“Right. Let me know if you hear anything.” Fushimi snapped his phone shut without waiting for a response. Clicking his tongue against his teeth, he turned and ran the opposite direction, away from HOMRA. The rain was starting to fall harder, both a blessing and a curse since it meant there would be less people on the street, but it also meant that Yata might be out in it somewhere.

 

The Blue skidded to a stop as the Red appeared out of nowhere, suddenly standing in front of him. The ginger's eyes were closed, and he pitched forward suddenly, his legs crumpling beneath him. Fushimi leaped forward, wrapping his arms around Yata and catching him before he hit the ground.

 

Yata looked up, barely surprised to see Fushimi. “Saru... please... make the spinning stop...”

 

The Red's eyes fell shut again and he was lost to exhaustion. Fushimi sighed, tugging one of Yata's arms and pulling him onto his back, hooking his arms under the ginger's knees. He glanced up as the rain started to clear, freezing as the parting clouds revealed a brilliantly shining orange sword dangling above them.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys, this fic took a random turn somewhere and it's taking me a while to figure out where I'm going with it, so hang in there! I'll update as soon as I can!


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long hiatus, but I'm back! Also, sorry it's such a short chapter this time :/ I've got A LOT of projects going on because I got really bored with no internet haha. Anyways, enjoy!

Yata groaned, his vision swimming as he opened his eyes. He was lying on a plastic cot in a strange exam room. He glanced around, panic rising in his chest until he spotted Fushimi digging through a cabinet. He sat up, surprised to find no restraints holding him down. “Saru...?”

 

The Blue turned, a set of white hospital pajama's in his hands. “Hey, how are you feeling?”

 

“Tired...”

 

“Get changed, then you can go back to sleep for a while.”

 

Yata realized suddenly that his clothes were soaked through and blushed as he shrugged them off, swapping them with the dry ones Fushimi passed him. “Why am I we-”

 

He broke off as his exhausted mind caught up. “I was at HOMRA... and the school... and the... Did I run away again?”

 

“Not exactly... but until we figure out what's going on, we're being moved to a safe house.”

 

“We?”

 

Fushimi rolled his eyes. “Munakata seems to think that I'm also a target.”

 

Yata frowned, remembering the things he'd been put through by his captors. “That would be... bad...”

 

Saruhiko noticed the worried look on Yata's face. “Hey, I'll be fine. Still right here, and they've had plenty of opportunity.”

 

“I guess...”

 

The Blue sighed. “Misaki... we need to talk.”

 

“About what?”

 

“When you got out of the clinic and went to HOMRA. You... teleported. There one second, gone the next.”

 

“I what?”

 

“You teleported.”

 

“I can't have, I'd have to be a Strain, and the slates were destroyed-”

 

“Misaki... you disappeared from your room, and there was no way you could've gotten by me without being seen. Five minutes later, I got a call from Kusanagi saying you'd shown up there. There's _no way_ you could have gotten from here to the bar in that time.”

 

Yata looked down at his lap. “So... so I'm a Strain now?”

 

“Well... not exactly.”

 

“What do you mean, _not exactly_?”

 

“You're a King.”

 

“ _WHAT?_ ”

 

~

 

Yata stared out the window of the armored car that Fushimi was driving to the safe house. Two cars led the way, and there was another car on either side of theirs, and then two more bringing up the rear. Yata sighed, “Is all this really necessary?”

 

“You're a king. The first king in almost a year.” What Fushimi didn't say was that it was likely that Yata's captors were still watching him. After all, why else would they have made him a king? Or was it all just coincidence?

 

Yata sighed and fidgeted, restlessly worrying the bandage on his left wrist. The Blue noticed, covering the Red's hand with his own. Yata blinked in surprise. “It itches...”

 

“Yeah, well... just leave it alone.” Fushimi pulled his hand away, replacing it on the wheel.

 

The ginger sighed, looking back out the window, noticing the buildings thinning and opening up to wide open space. “We're leaving the city?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because... we don't know where your power came from, we don't know what you might be capable of so... if your sword falls-”

 

“Got it. No craters in the city.”

 

Fushimi followed the two lead cars off the highway onto a dirt road. “It's more than that...”

 

But it really wasn't. At least not according to his commanding officers.

 

~

 

Yata perused the boxes of paperwork that had been stacked along one wall of the small living room, curious at the kind of work Fushimi had been given to do while they were on 'house arrest'. Beneath a stack of papers were several disc's, written on with handwriting he didn't recognize. He picked one up, reading it aloud “The Breaking of Yatagarasu-”

 

Startled, he dropped the disc on the floor, then retrieved the rest of the disc's from the box. All but two were titled 'The Breaking of Yatagarasu' and broken into parts labeled one through four. The final two discs were labeled 'Yatagarasu: Broken Crow'.

 

It was at that moment that Fushimi exited the bathroom, where he'd been showering, scrubbing a towel over his damp hair. He stopped when he saw Yata standing in the center of the living room, discs scattered on the floor and one in his hand. The ginger looked up. “Saruhiko, what is this?”

 

He had no idea what the Orange King was talking about. “What's what?”

 

“The... Breaking of Yatagarasu... all these discs have my name on them.”

 

“Where did you get those?”

 

“ _What is this_ , Saru?”

 

The Blue sighed, letting the towel drop around his shoulders. “Evidence.”

 

“Evidence of what? It's not... did they record it?”

 

“...Yes...”

 

“I want to watch them. All of them.”

 

Fushimi bent and scooped up the discs on the floor, gently prying the one in Yata's hands away. “I don't think that's a good idea.”

 

Yata snatched the discs back. “You don't get to decide that!”

 

The Blue sighed. “Yata...”

 

“I _lived_ this, Saru. I...” The gingers eyes welled, his voice hoarse as he whispered. “ _Please..._ ”

 

“... fine.” Fushimi took the stack of discs from Yata. They watch the first four together, both tight lipped and silent. Fushimi watches Yata more than the television screen, he's gone over the discs enough to have memorized them anyway. It's Yata he's concerned about, unsure if the newly born king can handle the stress of reliving his torture so soon.

 

The disc finished playing, and Yata was quick to eject it and start the next. The camera focused on Yata's flushed face, a blindfold tied over his eyes. The onscreen Yata whimpered and moaned, struggling in vain against his restraints. The camera pans down-

 

Yata yanked the DVD player off the stand, jerking the plugs from the TV in the process. He drops the player on the floor and raised his foot above it, preparing to destroy the disc, player and all. Fushimi lunged into action, jerking the Orange King away. “Yata stop, that's evidence!”

 

“It's not! There's nothing you could possibly learn from watching this and I don't want you to see-” Yata cut off suddenly, his gaze dropping to the floor.

 

“You don't want me to see what?”

 

The ginger remained silent. Fushimi sighed, releasing his hold on him. “Misaki... I've already seen it. The last one was delivered to my apartment the day I found you... It had an embedded code that translated into the address of the warehouse.”

 

“You've seen...” Yata's voice shakes as he speaks. “You saw... everything?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“You know... you saw me get rap-”

 

“ _Yes_.” Fushimi's voice takes on an angry edge, he's practically growling, but it's not Yata he's angry at. It's the monsters who kidnapped his best friend and tried to kill him. He's so focused on his anger and plans for revenge that he almost doesn't hear Yata's next question.

 

“Who... who else knows?”

 

Fushimi thought about lying. Really considered it a viable option for a moment before settling on the truth. Misaki deserved that much. “The captain and Awashima know, but they haven't seen the recording. A copy was mailed to Kusanagi too, I don't know if he watched it, but he knows what happened.”

 

“Mr. Kusanagi knows...?” Yata sank onto the floor, drawing his knees to his chest and burying his face in his arms.

 

Fushimi stood in the living room, his hands clenched in fists of rage, not knowing what to do for the trembling King.

 


End file.
